


Gimme a Kiss

by mific



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alcohol, Fanfiction, Fluff, Humor, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-21
Updated: 2010-04-21
Packaged: 2017-10-09 02:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/81770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mific/pseuds/mific
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drunk!Rodney: it's not every day they find a three-quarter charged ZPM so John figures Rodney's allowed a little leeway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gimme a Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for a McSmooch fest

  


 

“Need a hand?” Ronon’s grinning.

“Nah, I got him.” John waves goodnight then hooks Rodney’s arm across his shoulders and wraps his own arm around Rodney’s waist, pulling him through the mess doors and down the hall to the transporter.

“Weh we goin’ John?” slurs Rodney, stumbling along beside him, limbs and tongue loosened by a few too many Athosian brandies. Still, it’s not every day they find a three-quarter charged ZPM so John figures Rodney’s allowed a little leeway.

“Taking you to bed, Dr McLegless.” John thinks the transporter open and props Rodney in the far corner, leaning against him to keep him from sliding down to puddle on the floor.

“Not Leg’las, he’s a nelf. Like you.” Rodney’s eyes are dark blue, eyelids heavy. His face is pressed against the transporter wall, staring dreamily at John.

“Like me?” John quirks an eyebrow, not that Rodney’s up to subtle body-language at this stage. Instead he starts pawing at John’s ears and mussing up his hair.

“Pointy. Y’got elf ears.”

“Enough with the ear fondling, Rodney.” John leans his head away but Rodney’s hands follow, stroking clumsily down his cheeks and across his lips.

“Love your ears. An’ your mouth. Kissable lips, hot lips, wanna…”

“Whoa there, buddy.” John tries to lean further away, but he can’t let go of Rodney or he’ll be horizontal in seconds. All John can do is think the transporter door closed and try to peel Rodney off him. Easier said than done: Rodney’s channeling his inner cephalopod, limbs melting into John and wrapping around him as his hands pull John closer, blunt and grabby, warm under John’s jacket and sliding down to squeeze his ass.

“Hey! Watch the hands, Rodney. Jeez, you’re tanked!”

Rodney-the-friendly-octopus takes no notice, writhing happily against John and making small, pleased noises as he mouths John’s neck and traps him in the corner. “C’mon, John, gimme a kiss, c’mon…”

He plants wet kisses on John’s neck, working his way up behind John’s ear and happening on a sweet spot. John’s brain overloads briefly and he can’t help but lean into the warm, solid body enveloping him. Rodney smells good, of honey-cake and brandy, sweat and coffee and Rodneyness.

“Gimme a kiss, John, pleeeease…” Rodney’s mouthing along his jaw now, whining and sloppy, his eyes mostly shut, rubbing himself off on John’s hip.

“God, Rodney, yeah…” and John’s kissing him, pulling Rodney closer, sliding a thigh between his legs as he takes Rodney’s mouth. Tongue, and teeth, and those crooked lips opening so soft and sweet under his. It’s wet and messy and John’s heart’s pounding.

“Mmmm,” mumbles Rodney when they break for air. “Good, John, yeah, wanna...mmm…”

He trails off, yawning, his breath tickling John’s neck. A moment later there’s a soft snore.

_Jesus._ John taps his radio. “Ronon? You still up?”

“Sheppard? Yeah, still in the mess.”

John sighs. “I’m gonna need that hand after all. We didn’t get far – still in the transporter.”

“On it,” says Ronon.

John eases Rodney gently off his neck, tilting his head so it falls onto John’s shoulder. He kisses Rodney’s temple where the soft brown hair is curling damp with sweat. Rodney snuffles.

Pinned in the corner by a heavy mass of drunken astrophysicist, John thinks the transporter door open and waits for Ronon.

 


End file.
